


Another Day Older

by pocketwitch



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-08-10
Updated: 2002-10-13
Packaged: 2017-12-10 20:27:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/789829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pocketwitch/pseuds/pocketwitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Severus is in danger … and only Remus can save him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Another Day Older

Severus Snape didn’t have birthdays. He hadn’t had a single one for a good … what was it now? Almost twenty years. Ah yes, almost twenty. He’d almost lost track. Yes, he thought with a bitter snort, he’d lose track of his age on the same day that he invited Sirius Black and Harry Potter over for a cuppa and some biscuits. But how could he possibly be approaching forty? He hadn’t had a single birthday since he turned twenty, not a one.

Wrapping his arms around himself in the kind of gesture that he would only venture when he was absolutely certain he was alone, he paced softly through his quarters. He lapped from bedroom to den, allowing the repetitive motion and familiarity of the territory to comfort him.

“Damn me for a melancholy bastard!” He growled to himself, shaking his head violently back and forth. Briefly considering going to the Great Hall for breakfast, he quickly decided he wasn’t hungry, and instead strode across the room to his desk and sat, drawing a thick stack of Fifth Years’ essays toward him. Soon he was able to lose himself in his task, quill in hand pouring forth vitriol with all the enthusiasm of a man trying desperately to keep his mind somewhere … nowhere … anywhere but the calendar.

~*-,._.,'-*~'`^`'~*-',.'_.,-*~'`^`'~*-,-*~'`^`'~*-,._.,-*~'`^`'~*-,-*

_“Give me one reason why in hell I’d want someone to … love … me?”_

_The young man sneered the words with assuredness, a particular loathing emphasis placed upon the offending word. He had spoken with confidence, with no doubt that his words would answer the question to the satisfaction of the asker. And it seemed that they had, however, it only took a second for the other man’s icy, calculating grin to wrap a cold hand around Severus’s spine, causing him to wonder whether his wording had been quite so wise after all …_

~*-,._.,'-*~'`^`'~*-',.'_.,-*~'`^`'~*-,-*~'`^`'~*-,._.,-*~'`^`'~*-,-*

Remus Lupin didn’t have sex. He hadn’t had a single sexual encounter for a good … what was it now? Almost twenty years. Ah yes, almost twenty. He’d almost lost track. Yes, he thought with a self conscious chuckle, he’d lose track of his ridiculously sad sexual history on the same day that Severus Snape declared his undying love for him, ripped off all of his clothes and smeared him with … 

“Dammit, Remus, there’s simply no point to that,” he chastised himself quietly, and stood from where he had been sitting, absently pretending to read The Daily Prophet. Deciding that a bit of lunch would be the best way to calm him – and more pleasant by far than a cold shower – he went after his robes and tried to put Severus out of his mind. No Severus, anything but Severus … Severus, Severus, Severus … 

Sliding the robes over his shoulders, he wondered if Severus would be in the Great Hall. Probably not, as the man rarely seemed to leave the dungeons lately. Remus sighed. It wasn’t as though things were _bad_ with himself and Severus, in fact there had been vast improvement over the past two years. His first year teaching at Hogwarts had been a trial; having not seen the man in years, he had hoped to convince himself that his feelings for Severus had faded and withered away. Although he had come very close to convincing himself, it became very clear that there was no convincing his heart … or his libido, for that matter. Nor did it do any good trying to explain to his heart that perhaps it was for the best that Severus disliked him (loathed him, who did he think he was fooling?). Perhaps it would be easier for all involved to simply allow Severus to seethe in peace, giving him no reason to feel anything other than indifference (simmering hatred) toward him.

No no no. Nothing could possibly be that simple. While he was realistic about the chances of Severus ever falling in love with him (about as likely as Severus inviting Sirius Black and Harry Potter over for a cuppa and some biscuits), the thought of Severus … _hating_ … him – well, it just wouldn’t do. Perhaps they would never become friends, but at least they could put the past behind them, where it belonged, and be able to be in the same room without a storm cloud of tension rumbling ominously and scaring the house elves.

No one had been as surprised as Remus when they _did_ become friends. Not dear friends, perhaps not even close friends … but certainly more than acquaintances. It hadn’t been an overnight accomplishment – in fact, the storm cloud had persisted throughout Remus’s entire first year as a teacher at Hogwarts. Remus had certainly tried, but the year’s events hadn’t leant themselves to reconciliation, and his attempts invariably ended in a mass of thundering anger. After he had left Hogwarts, however … things had changed. Slowly. Remus had, in what he decided would be his final attempt if Severus continued to be nothing but scornful, written Severus a letter. A long letter. A lot of apologies were made, a lot of explanations were given, and amidst that, he had even dared to express some of the anger he felt at Severus’s treatment of him throughout the past year. He hadn’t expected a response.

A response came. It was short. It was terse. It was laden with sarcasm. In other words, it was Severus. But what it _wasn’t_ \-- that was where the progress lay. It wasn’t derisive, it wasn’t nasty, and most importantly, it wasn’t telling Remus to leave him alone. So Remus wrote another letter, and a correspondence had begun. 

Remus was as satisfied as he was surprised at the degree of progress. Well, not entirely satisfied per se, but it was more than he had ever expected. Perhaps he had been mistaken before; perhaps the best way to avoid the storm cloud was, in fact, to avoid being in the same room with Severus. Never mind that dodging any actual contact with the man would also help him to put aside certain other … thoughts that tended to crop up. Months passed, quietly, amid letters tucked in brown boxes with the Wolfsbane potion that Severus posted to him with unerring regularity. 

And then, just when Remus was becoming settled in his new life and becoming used to the idea that perhaps he could maintain a relatively sane friendship with Severus as long as he kept his distance from the man … Albus owled. Asking him to return to Hogwarts, to retake his position teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts. Remus had heard bits and pieces of The Moody Debacle from Severus, but it seemed that Dumbledore was truly concerned about the future of the class. As Voldemort’s return pressed more and more heavily against them, the students would need a _competent_ Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Only one such person had emerged in years past, and Dumbledore seemed certain that Remus’s condition was a danger to no one. Certainly nothing could be more dangerous to the students than being unprepared in the face of danger, and what if he were forced to re-hire Lockhart?

That last line was certainly thrown in as a guilt trip, Remus mused, surely Albus would never … well, all right, even if it was a guilt trip, it had worked. After an absence of only one year this time, Remus Lupin had yet again returned to Hogwarts.

He had initially been worried that, faced with the reality of his presence, Severus would return to their old patterns and greet him with sneers and coldness. Certainly Severus hadn’t thrown a Welcome-Back-Lupin party in his honor, but neither had he been cold. After a few slightly awkward face-to-face discussions, during which Remus was absolutely certain that his heartbeats were obscuring his words, the two began a ritual of quiet, comfortable teas together in Severus’s quarters most afternoons. It was progress, and progress was not to be sneezed at. Still, Remus had no intention of hurrying anything. He remained heavily skeptical about his chances of having a relationship with Severus … but not as skeptical as he had been before they were on speaking terms. Surely Severus hadn’t been secretly harboring feelings for twenty-five years as Remus had, but maybe in time … maybe if Remus was patient enough … maybe Severus would grow to care for him. Now instead of trying to quash his hopes in an attempt to save himself from disappointment, he was beginning to nurse the seedling of true possibility. He could sense very easily, however, that Severus didn’t trust him. Not surprising; Severus wasn’t exactly a man prone to trusting quickly or at all, and the two men had been on bad ground since their teen years. All of his intuition told him that the fastest way to destroy his chances would be to try and push the process along too quickly. It might take years, but for now he had Severus’s companionship, and for now that would have to be enough.

~*-,._.,'-*~'`^`'~*-',.'_.,-*~'`^`'~*-,-*~'`^`'~*-,._.,-*~'`^`'~*-,-*

_The other Death Eaters in the room began to slowly back away from the two men who stood in the center of the circle. The older man was approaching the younger, slowly, gliding across the floor, mouth twisted into a mad smile, one hand outstretched. The younger man, pale to begin with, looked entirely devoid of color; his skin almost transparent. Still, he made no attempt to avoid the inevitable touch. He stood his ground, arms locked at his sides, eyes aimed straight forward._

_Voldemort caressed Severus’s forehead feather-soft with the tips of his fingers, and began to whisper an incantation._

~*-,._.,'-*~'`^`'~*-',.'_.,-*~'`^`'~*-,-*~'`^`'~*-,._.,-*~'`^`'~*-,-*

After an intense session of violent marking, red ink staining his fingers like the aftermath of a massacre, Snape felt calmer, steadier, grounded. Stacking the papers neatly and placing them on the corner of his desk, he glanced at the clock and realized that Lupin would be by soon for tea.

Lupin. Who must certainly be desperate for company to seek _me_ for friendship, Snape thought. He’s lonely, his circle of friends has been shattered. He’s always been an intensely social person – when was he ever seen without his precious friends in his youth? Perhaps he’s simply turning to the only person he can find who has remained somewhat consistent over the years. 

And who knew why Snape was allowing it? Ah, but _that_ was simple enough. Less time alone equaled less time staring at the calendar. The list of people waiting to offer their companionship to Severus Snape had dwindled to an approximate sum of -12 over the past fifteen years, and Lupin was convenient.

“As I am convenient for him,” Snape told himself. Surely, in time, Black’s innocence would be publicly revealed, then Lupin would regain access to one of his true friends, and slowly, politely, his visits to the dungeons would taper off, leaving Snape to return to solitude. 

Surely Lupin’s interests in Snape would fade, given time, and he would abandon Snape just as easily as everyone else had. Never mind that Snape had grown to look forward to their quiet teas, or that Lupin was perhaps the only person whose company he actually desired. Under normal circumstances, Snape would never have allowed anyone the opportunity to have, and then choose to discard, access to him on any personal level. Right now, however, he wasn’t concerned. After all, he would be abandoning Lupin long before Lupin would ever have the chance to abandon him.

~*-,._.,'-*~'`^`'~*-',.'_.,-*~'`^`'~*-,-*~'`^`'~*-,._.,-*~'`^`'~*-,-*

_When the older man with the ghoulish smile stepped away, the younger man with the long dark hair felt dizzy. He raised his left hand to his head in an attempt to steady the feeling of persistent motion. As he did so, his eyes caught something unusual._

_The Dark Mark had changed._

~*-,._.,'-*~'`^`'~*-',.'_.,-*~'`^`'~*-,-*~'`^`'~*-,._.,-*~'`^`'~*-,-*

Spending afternoons with Severus was always pleasant; Remus truly enjoyed the man’s company when he was calm, in his element. It was not, however, easy. Even after several weeks of tea, the sight of Severus invariably incited his mind to leap from thoughts of homelovetrustsoulmatehusbandforever to thoughts of warmbarepaleskinnakedgaspingnibblingohGOD … and back. And forth. Again. Until it was all he could do to bring himself to smile calmly and say … 

~*-,._.,'-*~'`^`'~*-',.'_.,-*~'`^`'~*-,-*~'`^`'~*-,._.,-*~'`^`'~*-,-*

“Hello, Severus.” 

“Good afternoon, Lupin.” 

As usual, Severus had the tea prepared and set out, and was already settled into his most comfortable chair with a cup. Remus helped himself, and sat in his usual spot, across from Severus. When he’d first started having teas with Severus, he’d had to bring a chair in from Severus’s office every afternoon, as there had only been one chair in the den. Now whenever he arrived, he found the chair already positioned and waiting for him.

“I see you’ve been marking,” Remus commented, nodding toward Severus’s red tinted fingers. “Was that why you weren’t at breakfast? Or lunch?” 

“Yes it was, though I don’t feel I have to explain my dining habits to you, Lupin, you’re hardly my guardian.” 

“No, but I am your friend.”

“Are you.” 

Remus cocked his head, his expression perplexed. “What else would I be?” 

“I’m not entirely sure.” 

Remus frowned. He had spent enough time with Severus that he was reasonably confident in his ability to decipher when the man was being serious and when he was simply using Snape-speak, tingeing every word with sarcasm out of habit and personality. Severus’s eyes were focused downward into his tea rather than fixated on Remus, challenging him to sling a comeback and keep the banter going. Remus decided to tread carefully.

“Well, you should be. That _is_ what I am.” 

Severus nodded curtly, and looked up. “I’ve finished the latest batch of Wolfsbane potion; it’s a rather large cauldron, it should last you quite a while.” 

The subject of friendship, apparently, was closed. 

“Thank you. As always, it is much appreciated.” 

They chatted for a while longer about classes, students, books, the usual repertoire; there were no more moments of uncertainty, and soon Remus’s concern dissipated, and he passed off the earlier exchange as one of the many disconcerting, yet inevitable, bumps along the road to gaining Severus’s trust. 

When the tea was finished, Remus, as always, offered to help tidy up, and Severus, as always, refused the offer. 

“Same time tomorrow then, Severus?” 

As Remus returned to his quarters, he was almost able to explain away the moment’s hesitation that had occurred before Severus responded with his usual, “If you must, Lupin.” 

~*-,._.,'-*~'`^`'~*-',.'_.,-*~'`^`'~*-,-*~'`^`'~*-,._.,-*~'`^`'~*-,-*

“To what do I owe this unexpected visit, Mr. Malfoy?” Dumbledore’s voice tinged with uncertainty; he and Lucius may have been on the same side of the war, but that didn’t necessarily make them friends, or even friendly acquaintances. Nothing short of dire would have delivered Lucius Malfoy into the office of Albus Dumbledore willingly; the younger man most definitely wasn’t stopping by to borrow a cup of lemon drops. 

Malfoy lingered by the window for a moment, silently watching the sunset, before turning to Dumbledore and speaking. 

“There’s something you need to know …” 

~*-,._.,'-*

“ … about Severus.” 

Remus’s pulse immediately quickened. He had known as soon as Albus asked to see him in his office – _immediately_ \- that something must be urgently wrong, and it took a good deal more than a trifle to so concern Albus Dumbledore. 

“What is it …”

~*-,._.,'-*

“ … Lucius?” 

Malfoy gritted his teeth and seemed to consider for a moment. Then he began to speak, clearly but quickly, as if the speed at which this message was delivered were just as important as the clarity of it. 

“Twenty years ago. Snape was newly twenty years old; it was his birthday, actually. It was before he came back to work with you. It was _why_ he came back to work with you, or at least it was the impetus that made him realize _what_ Voldemort truly was.” He paused for a second. “You have to understand …”

~*-,._.,'-*

“ … that Voldemort never much cared for Severus.”

Remus sneered, the gesture reminding him briefly that he had picked up certain mannerisms from the time he spent with Severus. A wistful smile tried to emerge, but was weighted down by circumstance and crushed. “Has Voldemort ever cared for anyone?” 

“After a fashion, he can be protective of his followers. Severus, however, was never one of his favored children. Severus was an incredibly useful tool, but he was never …”

~*-,._.,'-*

“ … an arse kisser, like the rest of us. He didn’t genuflect. He didn’t Prostrate Himself Before The Dark Lord. He did what was asked of him, and he spoke the words that would please, but he refused to make himself small in order to amuse, as the rest of us were so willing to do at any command. Voldemort was … irked by this. But he wasn’t going to kill Snape, or otherwise render him useless; Voldemort was – is – a lot of things; he’s cruel, cold and insane – but he’s no fool. He knew that Snape was one of his most talented followers. So instead he decided to …” 

~*-,._.,'-*

“ … find a long-term way to punish him. To harm him without causing him pain or disabling him in any way. To … slowly degrade his sense of self worth, the confidence and presence that angered Voldemort so.” 

Remus was pacing now, lapping across Dumbledore’s office in an effort to manage the furious, worried energy. “What did he do to him? _What is wrong with Severus?_ ” 

“There’s a curse,” Dumbledore said softly, a bit of discomfort evident among the concerned tones of his voice. “If Severus doesn’t …”

~*-,._.,'-*

“ … consummate a relationship with someone _who truly loves him_ before his fortieth birthday, he will die.” 

“Die?”

~*-,._.,'-*

“DIE???”

~*-,._.,'-*

“Die.”

Dumbledore was silent for a moment. “How do we know that the curse is still active? He may have been able to remove it years ago. I’m sure that he’s …”

~*-,._.,'-*

“ … had _dozens_ of lovers. I’ve known him as long as you have, and I’ve probably picked up more of the … juicy details of his life,” Remus said. “The man was insane when he was younger, he hopped from relationship to relationship like a conquistador when he was in his twenties, he would get involved with someone, have sex with them and … move on …” Remus’s words slowed as the understanding flooded through him. “Dear god.” 

Dumbledore was silent for a moment, before gently posing his question.

“But you never … ?”

“No. I never.” 

Dumbledore simply nodded.

“Still,” Remus continued shakily, “we don’t know that he hasn’t been able to remove the curse. He slowed down when he got to his thirties, stopped letting anyone in for any reason, not even for physical flings as far as I’m aware.”

Dumbledore lifted one eyebrow, and Remus flushed a bit.

“The rumor mill, you know …” he stammered. “But the point is, maybe he settled down because he found … someone.”

“Or maybe he just gave up.” 

“Well how do we KNOW?” 

“According to Lucius, there’s …”

~*-,._.,'-*

“ … a mark. Voldemort wanted there to be a physical sign of the curse, one that would only disappear when the requirements of lifting it had been fulfilled. A constant reminder that he hadn’t been able to remove the curse. That he hadn’t ever been truly ...”

~*-,._.,'-*

“ … loved.”

“My god,” Remus whispered. Feeling a bit weak in the knees, he slowly sat down in one of Dumbledore’s chairs and held his head in his hands. “What sort of mark?”

“Voldemort made it a part of …”

~*-,._.,'-*

“ … The Dark Mark. It’s easy to conceal, because Snape keeps The Dark Mark hidden anyway, and even those who see it can rarely stand to look at it closely. If they did, they’d see that one of the skull’s eyes has a pair of hands inside it.”

“Hands?”

“Clock hands. Counting down the years.” 

Lucius tapped his fingers nervously against Dumbledore’s desk. “I’m truly sorry that I didn’t tell you this sooner. I always thought …. Well, I assumed that he’d managed to … take care of it before now. I haven’t seen much of him since he returned to Hogwarts. Now, with recent events … but I only just found out that he hadn’t been able to remove the curse. I realize that it is most likely too late, considering that his birthday is …”

~*-,._.,'-*

“ … tomorrow.” 

“TOMORROW? Oh god … of _course_ it’s tomorrow. Albus, I … I don’t know if I can … I mean, he doesn’t … how can I bring myself to … when he doesn’t …” 

Albus laid a comforting hand on Lupin’s shoulder. “I know,” he said softly, “that the next few hours will be difficult for you. I also know that your actions over their course will determine whether Severus has a chance of survival.”

~*-,._.,'-*~'`^`'~*-',.'_.,-*~'`^`'~*-,-*~'`^`'~*-,._.,-*~'`^`'~*-,-*

Remus knocked on Severus’s door, quietly at first, then with a bit more enthusiasm, then, becoming worried that perhaps he wouldn’t be able to find Severus, continuing on and on until his fist was endangering the heavy wood. He stopped abruptly, leaning his head against the door, and took several breaths. 

“Relax, Remus. No panicking. Be _rational_. Think.” 

Once he had managed to calm himself down off of the brief adrenaline rush, he pressed his ear against the door and stood there for several moments, as silent as he could be, and listened. Once he was sure that he heard no movement or breathing from inside the chambers, he walked quickly toward the Potions Classroom. 

Maybe, he thought, he’s with someone else. Someone who found out about the curse. Someone who is, as we speak, _curing_ him. The idea brought equal parts dismay and relief.

Oh dear god no, it _can’t_ be someone else, who else could it possibly be? Who else could love him enough? He’s MINE. I’m the one who loves him, and now he’s finally going to see that. It’s my job to save him. Mine and no one else’s. 

Oh dear god yes please, please don’t make me do this, please don’t make me go through with this farce, please don’t make me endanger the chances of ever having a life with him in order to keep him alive. 

His brain and his heart danced wildly back and forth between ideas and emotions while his stomach was feeling as though it had taken residence in his shoes. He had almost run straight from Dumbledore’s office to the dungeons – no time to waste, god it was almost 7pm already, who knew what time the curse would activate? Midnight? Dawn? There was no room for assumptions. His clothes were rumpled, his hair tangled and he knew he was covered in cold sweat. What a seductive picture, he thought wryly as he burst into the Potions Classroom without knocking.

Severus was there. Alone. 

The pale man looked up from his desk where he sat, marking papers apparently, and, seeing Remus, looked back down and resumed his scribbling. 

“Come in, Lupin,” he offered dryly to the very-much-in Remus. Remus closed and locked the door behind him. 

“Why are you here?” 

“I am a professor of this institution. It is a vital part of my profession to take it upon myself to mark the assignments that the students occasionally complete and hand in to me.”

“Now?” 

“When else would you suggest?” Severus’s eyes remained fixed on his work. Remus inhaled raggedly, and walked toward the desk. 

“I know about the curse.” 

Severus’s hand trembled for a moment. His muscles tensed. His jaw clenched. An instant. Then he immediately reverted back to his former composed state. 

“Do you now.” 

Remus approached the desk and leaned forward, resting folded arms against it, his face inches from Severus’s. 

“I can remove it.” 

“Oh can you now. You alone have the skill to negate a curse placed by Voldemort at the height of his power.” 

“I didn’t say I could negate it. I said I could remove it.” 

Severus dropped his quill and turned his face upward to face Remus. “I don’t know what twisted rumor mill has been feeding you your information, Lupin, but I assure you that you cannot remove this curse. The circumstances for the removal are as specific as they are unmeetable.” 

“It sounded simple enough to me. You have to have sex with someone who truly loves you.” 

“Which is exactly why it is unremovable. No such person exists.” 

“I do.” 

Severus spoke through ground teeth, his black eyes wild with fury. “I warn you, Lupin, just because you’ve deigned to sit in my chambers and drink my tea doesn’t mean I’ve let my guard down. You and your friends mocked me once and I did nothing, but I’ve got nothing to lose tonight - ”

“I love you, Severus, I’ve loved you for years.” 

Severus stood abruptly, shoving his chair backward, and walked out from behind his desk, past Remus and toward the door. 

“Where are you going?” 

“I won’t listen to this.” 

Remus turned to follow him. “You can’t just walk away from it, Severus.” 

“I won’t listen to this.” 

“The curse isn’t going to go away unless we do something about it.” 

“I WON’T LISTEN TO THIS!” Severus roared, one hand on the doorknob when Remus caught up to him, grabbed him and turned him around, pinning his back against the wall. 

“You will listen,” Remus said, his voice even, his breath surprisingly steady, his pulse amazingly low. He knew what had to happen, he knew that he had to protect his love, and he would do whatever was necessary to fulfill his responsibility. “Or you will die, and I will not let that happen.” 

“What makes you think I’m so eager to live?” Severus replied, eyes locked on Remus’s, motionless, not attempting to escape the other man’s hold on him. 

“Maybe you’re not, at the moment. But maybe that could change. If you willfully and actively took your own life, I would grieve, and I would be furious with you, and I would think it was a terrible waste. But that would be _your_ choice to make. However, I _will not_ allow you sit there at your desk and passively let Voldemort take your life from you.” 

“It is not yours to allow, Lupin. It simply is, and it cannot be changed.” 

“It can and it will. I truly love you, and I can remove the curse.” 

“What if I don’t believe you?” 

“I know that this is sudden, I certainly didn’t want to tell you like this, I wanted you to trust me first, but if you could just - ”

“I don’t trust you. I don’t know why you’re doing this, but I _certainly_ don’t believe you.”

“The curse doesn’t specify that you have to believe me.” 

“What if I say no?”

“It doesn’t have to be this way, Severus,” Remus said, his voice near pleading. “We’re in an awkward situation, but I want to help you, I love - ” 

“I asked you a question.” 

Remus searched Severus’s eyes desperately, but found nothing to help him answer this question. His own eyes fixed miserably on Severus’s, and he responded, the words heavier than any he had spoken.

“I will not allow you to die because you insist on being a stubborn bastard.” 

Severus drew himself up to full height and glared down at Remus, who tightened his grip on the man’s arms and attempted to ready himself for a struggle. 

“Are you saying you would force me?” 

“Don’t make me do this Severus, please.” 

“Are you saying you would force me?” 

“I’m begging you to stop.” 

“Are. You. Saying. You. Would. Force. Me.” 

“Yes.” 

The silence stretched miles, spanned oceans.

“Do it then.”

Remus blinked. “What?” 

“If you’re so sure that you can remove the curse and you’re so intent on saving my damned life, go ahead and try, I’m certainly not strong enough to stop you.” 

“You aren’t going to make me force you?” 

“No.” Remus released his hold on Severus, who smoothed his robes. “It’s enough to know that you would have.” 

Remus took a step back, trembling slightly. “You bastard.” 

“Yes.” 

“Damn you.” 

“Someone already tried, but apparently you are here with your Grand Gryffindor Courage to save the day.” 

Remus felt dizzy. He turned away from Severus and held his head in his hands, trying to steady himself, trying to remind himself that he _had_ to do this, he was Severus’s only chance, time wasn’t moving any slower, so dammit, act now and pick up the pieces later. 

Behind him, Severus was unfastening his robes. “Let’s get this over with.” 

With that, Remus snapped. He had dreamed many different words that Severus might speak before their first time together, but that sentence was straight out of a nightmare. This he had never imagined.

_He had imagined this so many times, in so many different ways, but there were always recurring themes. Always they kissed, sometimes softly, sometimes fiercely, but always with grand passion, piquing each other’s arousal._  
---  
  
“Fine,” Remus said shortly, and whirled back to face Severus, his infuriated snarl met by the other man’s derisive sneer.

_When the time came, they would remove each other’s clothes, sometimes slowly, with great care, sometimes hurriedly, frenzied with lust, but always they took great enjoyment exploring every bit of skin, every opened button allowing for a new and wondrous revelation._  
---  
  
Severus hadn’t entirely finished removing his robes, so Remus finished for him. Cloth was shredded. Buttons flew through the air. Just as Remus was about to tear open the other man’s trousers, he had another thought.

_Remus had only recently found out about Severus’s past as a Death Eater; Sirius had told him, and Sirius, of course, saw it as another reason to hate the man. Remus, after taking the time to process all of the information and emotions, only found himself respecting Severus more. His fantasies now incorporated the fact that Severus would be marked. He imagined himself showing great care and tenderness toward the gruesome scar, demonstrating to Severus that he held the man’s past in no contempt._  
---  
  
He grabbed Severus’s left arm, pulling it outward and tearing the shirt sleeve open until the mark was visible. The outlines of the snake and the skull were clear and black, and, just as it had been described to him, within the skull’s left eye was a small pair of hands, one pointing straight upward, the other lingering a hair behind the first, as though the time were just before midnight. Unlike the rest of the brand, however, the hands shone bright red, almost glowing.

_They would whisper to each other, sometimes saying very little, but still communicating tomes. They would speak, with words and without, of their unending trust of each other, and unrelenting desire._  
---  
  
“I had to be sure it was true. And that it was still there.” 

“Because I’m terribly motivated to lie to you about it. There’s nothing I want more right now than to have a half-mad werewolf interrupt my evening demanding to bugger me whether I like it or not.” 

“Shut up.” Remus stepped toward one of the student worktables, and, with a dramatic sweep, brushed all of the tools and implements onto the floor. Then he turned again toward Severus, grabbed him by the waistband of his trousers, ripping them open and shoving them down until they fell to his ankles.

_Sometimes he would gently lay his lover down on the bed, sometimes they would tumble there together, and sometimes they weren’t anywhere in proximity of a bed …_  
---  
  
Severus barely had time to kick off his shoes and step out of his trousers before Remus seized him by the shoulders, turned him around and bent him over the worktable, then began to unfasten his own clothes.

_… but he always took Severus carefully. Sometimes slowly, as though they had all the time in the world, sometimes with frenzied urgency, but always with extreme care toward his love’s pleasure._  
---  
  
He certainly made no effort to hurt Severus, and he doubted that he was, at least not much; Severus, after all, was hardly new to this position. He was much gentler than he could’ve been if he hadn’t used every bit of his will to reign in his fury. This wasn’t to say he was especially gentle, or especially concerned about Severus’s comfort.

_They would look into each other’s eyes, rarely ever breaking contact, awash in ecstasy, soft – and sometimes rather loud – sounds of joy escaping their throats as they moved in unison._  
---  
  
Neither man made a sound. Remus gripped Severus’s hips as he took him, his fingers digging so deeply that he knew the man would have bruises the next day. Severus stayed mostly still, his left cheek pressed against the wooden worktable, his hair falling over his face so that Remus couldn’t tell if his eyes were open or closed.

_They would both orgasm, sometimes together, the intensity covering them, making them one being, one closed unit, one intimate bundle of limbs and skin and lips and constant affection._  
---  
  
Remus came, exhaling deeply, his relief more mental than physical. Severus snarled, his voice guttural, “Are you quite finished?”

_Afterward, they would cuddle closely together, Remus still inside Severus, bodies and souls linked, and maybe they would speak quietly of their feelings, their future … or maybe they would simply join hands and drift blissfully off to sleep._  
---  
  
Remus pulled out as soon as he finished, causing Severus to inhale sharply. Turning immediately away from Severus, he pulled up and fastened his trousers. Severus, moving a bit gingerly, turned and placed his feet on the floor, still leaning against the table, keeping the Dark Mark faced away from him throughout the maneuver. 

“Aren’t you going to look and be sure you’ve done your job, fulfilled your entirely honorable intentions?” Severus asked, clearly trying to mask the slight shakiness of his voice. 

“I don’t have to look,” Remus replied, still facing away from the table as he straightened his clothing. 

Severus set his jaw and remained motionless for a moment, then drew up his left arm and turned his eyes toward the mark. It appeared, for the first time since his teenage years, exactly as it had when it was first burned into his skin. 

The hands were gone. 

Severus gaped openly, the fingers of his right hand tracing the skull’s left eye where they had been for so long. When he looked up, Remus was unlocking the classroom door. Barely able to speak, his word came out a torn whisper.

“Remus.” 

The man froze, but did not turn around. Then he placed his hand on the doorknob. As he left the room, he spoke two last words before closing the door behind him. 

“Goodnight, Snape.”


	2. Heartbreak Even

Severus watched the door close behind Remus with an entirely unwelcome feeling of helplessness. He certainly couldn't chase the man through the dungeon corridors as he was - half naked, the clothes he was wearing mostly destroyed. He was hardly in any condition to move quickly, at that; as he stood, shifting his weight from the worktable to his own frame, he winced sharply and realized that he'd be walking rather delicately for the time being, but hopefully by tomorrow ...

Tomorrow.

"I'm going to _have_ a tomorrow," he said quietly, and was completely taken aback by the wash of relief, and - was that _joy_? - that he felt as he mused on the idea. However, before he had time to contemplate the thought that perhaps he _had_ wanted to live after all, his pragmatic side took over and reminded him that it wasn't prudent to remain in the Potions Classroom in this state for any longer. 

Slowly he gathered his ruined garments and did his best to clothe himself. There was hardly a functional button or zipper left anywhere, but he was able to drape his robes over himself satisfactorily. The walk back to his quarters was a short one, and since very few people were drawn to the dungeons in the evening, he encountered no one in the hallway. Once he was safely home, he headed for the bathroom. A warm soak would be just the thing to help soothe the soreness. 

"Foolish werewolf didn't even realize he was hurting me," Severus thought as he began to prepare his bath. "Surely he would've been more careful if I'd asked. Of course, asking would've required I actually said something somewhat civil to the man, and why on earth should I have made any attempt to be civil to someone who had the audacity to want to save my life?" Severus stepped into the tub and slowly sank into the water, sighing as his aching body was submerged. 

"Well then. I'll just have to speak with him tomorrow over tea." He stretched his legs out as far as he could. "Because he's _sure_ to come by for our regular tea tomorrow. He'll be hellishly eager to see me. It's not as though rejecting his declaration of love and forcing him - the world's most peace loving werewolf - to the edge of brutality would _perturb_ him in the least." He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. 

"Damn." 

~*-,._.,'-*~'`^`'~*-',.'_.,-*~'`^`'~*-,-*~'`^`'~*-,._.,-*~'`^`'~*-,-*

Remus stared up into the shower, his arms hanging at his sides, the scalding water pouring over him relentlessly. He had been there, unmoving, for hours. Days. Or was it weeks? Maybe he could just stand there for months, letting the water sear away his upper epidermal. Maybe if he stayed there for years, the steam would cleanse him. He would emerge a pearly skeleton, his skin and viscera worn away, and he would no longer feel filthy. 

Or maybe he would start to feel as if he were burning all over, and, finding the sensation rather unpleasant, would turn off the shower and dry himself off. Spending the rest of his life in the shower was hardly a sensible option. He had classes to teach, papers to mark, meetings to attend. Never mind that he was broken; he'd never been entirely whole to begin with, had he? 

He stepped out of the bathroom and pulled a robe over his shoulders, wincing a bit as the soft terry brushed against his tender skin. He didn't remove it, however; he tied the sash around his waist and sat on the edge of his bed. 

Tomorrow he would arise in the morning. He would go to breakfast, lunch and dinner in the Great Hall. He would teach his DADA lessons, and teach them well. He would go on. And if he happened to see Severus in the hallway ... 

But he was not, absolutely not, ready to think about that. The prospect of continuing the minutiae of his everyday life was tolerable - dully comforting, even - but the idea of seeing Severus ... 

He would just have to do a superb job of avoiding the man. For a while, at least. It shouldn't be too difficult, as closely as Snape stuck to his dungeons. Maybe he'd have the house elves bring his meals to his quarters for a few days, just to be safe.

Because he knew. He had known, since he had finished with Severus the night before. He couldn't take it. He could take painful transformations every month. He could take spending years upon years alone and shunned by society. He could even take the notion that he would probably spend the rest of his life relatively solitary. But he knew. He had to avoid Severus. He couldn't look into those eyes. Couldn't face up to the endless dark of them. 

He wouldn't be able to take it. 

~*-,._.,'-*~'`^`'~*-',.'_.,-*~'`^`'~*-,-*~'`^`'~*-,._.,-*~'`^`'~*-,-*

He most certainly wasn't surprised when Remus didn't come by for tea at the usual time the next afternoon. He hadn't expected it. Still, as he sat and sipped his own tea, staring at Remus's empty chair and untouched cup, the tiny pitcher filled with just the amount of cream that Remus took ... the truth of the situation became unignorable. 

Remus wasn't coming back. Not for tea. Not for assistance researching his next DADA lesson. Not for those horridly irritating (If they were so damn irritating, Severus, why did you never turn him away at the door?) random visits that he sometimes paid, usually either right before or right after the full moon. Before, he would be edgy, overwrought, fighting - sometimes successfully - to remain relaxed, to keep his laid-back air. After, he was drained, ragged, anaemic looking. Severus would call for the house elves to bring up a hot meal, despite the fact that Remus always insisted that it wasn't food he needed ... what, then, was it that he needed? Remus had never answered that question. 

"And why ever not?" Snape snarled to himself. "I most certainly would've welcomed his advances. He had no reason to think I might compound his fear of rejection. Surely I would never sneer at a whole-hearted declaration of ... love ... " He sighed and laid his head in his hand. 

And what if Remus had answered, he asked himself. If he had looked up at Severus with those worn down eyes and said, "It's you that I need." Never. Never would Snape have believed him, not even when the man looked as though the energy to lie was a week's worth of sleep and square meals away. 

Believed him? Never. But would he have taken him, drawn some twisted dead man's comfort in the weary werewolf's body? Used him, as he would've been sure that Remus was using him? As he would've convinced himself that Remus was using him, despite any and all evidence to the contrary? For he certainly would've explained away any hints that the man actually cared for him. He'd been doing just that for years, he'd become quite adept at it. 

But if Remus had spoken ... and if Severus had taken solace in the man's desperation ... it would've resulted in the one sign that he would've been unable to explain away. The same sign that was so difficult for him to accept now. And maybe ... just maybe ... they would've been able to move forward from there. 

"That's right, Snape, blame this all on him. If only the werewolf had spoken up sooner. If things have become terribly muddled, it's his own doing, his own responsibility for waiting, for being so determined to ... win my trust ... " He stood and began to pace restlessly across the room. 

Remus wasn't coming back. And why would he? Except ... 

The potion. He would have to come back for the potion. Except ... that he'd just given Remus a good six months' worth, wanting to give the man plenty of time to find another source after he was no longer available. 

"Damn me for a coward!" He exclaimed in mixed frustration and rage. "What, exactly, is keeping me from going to him?" 

~*-,._.,'-*~'`^`'~*-',.'_.,-*~'`^`'~*-,-*~'`^`'~*-,._.,-*~'`^`'~*-,-*

Apparently the answer to that question was Sirius Black. 

Snape knocked on the door to Remus's quarters, softly at first and then steadily louder. When he received no response, he called out. "I know you're there. I need to speak with you." Silence. "Open the door, or I'll open it myself. Lupin!" Finally, he pointed his wand toward the lock. "Alohamora." It opened easily. "Damned werewolf doesn't even know enough to spell ward his lock," he muttered, and entered the quarters. 

No sooner had he stepped through the door and closed it behind him than he heard a low, vicious snarling. He spun around to see a large black dog standing no more than two feet away from him and looking as though it would much prefer a hunk of Snape to a bowl of kibble for its dinner. 

"Black, I ... bloody hell!" 

No sooner had he spoken the creature's name than it lunged for him, its teeth catching Snape's hand and coming away with a bit of flesh. 

"Don't hurt him, Sirius. Please." 

Snape clutched his bleeding hand to his chest, and followed the voice with his eyes. Remus was sitting on the windowsill, staring out at the grounds, his profile soft against the waning light. The dog looked toward Remus and reluctantly stood down, but kept its teeth bared. 

"A bit too late for that," Snape commented softly, wrapping his hand in a handkerchief. 

"Leave." 

Snape kept his eyes fixed on Remus, who had not turned from the window. Clenching his wounded hand into a fist, he floundered for words. "You didn't come for tea today." 

Remus snorted. Black growled. 

"I can't do this, Snape. I won't." The man on the sill spoke quietly, but with unmistakable resolve.

"Won't what?" Snape asked, his stomach clenching, fearing to hear the answer.

"I won't pretend that it never happened." 

Thank GOD. "That's hardly my proposal. I - damn!" 

Black had lunged at him again, not biting but clearly threatening. Now he stood mere inches from Snape, snarling, and Snape imagined that if he stayed much longer, he'd leave minus a few pieces no matter what Remus said. 

"I told you to leave. It's best that you do so." 

Snape looked up at Remus one last time. The man's face was still fixed on the world outside the window. He hadn't looked at Snape once. Hadn't, in fact, looked at Snape since turning away from him the night before. 

"Remus." Snape spoke his name as though it was a precious thing. The man seemed to shudder slightly in response but did not turn. Black inched closer and snapped again, making it clear that Snape was to leave the premises - now. "You know where to find me. Please, Remus." He spoke the last words slowly, plaintively, but did not wait for a response, or for Black to take another piece of him. He turned quickly and opened the door. As he left and closed it behind him, he could hear the pounding of Black's body against it as he lunged one last time after the retreating man. He could hear the frustrated snarl that followed. And he thought he heard a hint of something that could've been a choked back sob. 

~*-,._.,'-*~'`^`'~*-',.'_.,-*~'`^`'~*-,-*~'`^`'~*-,._.,-*~'`^`'~*-,-*

When Severus returned to his quarters, he found one of the school owls waiting for him, holding a small emerald green envelope in its beak. He took the envelope, which had his name written across it in Dumbledore's fanciest lettering. The owl flew off and Severus sat down, opening the envelope to find a card. Simple yet elegant, the picture on the front was of a sleek black cat with bright green eyes; she stretched gracefully and yawned, looking barely interested in Severus, before laying down in a decidedly imperious pose. Severus opened the card. Inside, again, was Dumbledore's handwriting, bearing only four words.

"Happiest Of Birthdays, Severus." 

Muttering something about "damned wonky old man," he tossed the card aside and went to the bathroom to wash the blood from his hand and wrap it properly. He considered going to Madam Pomfrey to have the wound looked at, then thought better of it. She would want to know where he'd managed to obtain a dog's bite, and that might not be the easiest of questions to answer. If rumor spread that Black was secretly visiting Remus, well ... it certainly wouldn't make Remus anymore pleased with him. 

Returning to his den, he glanced again at the birthday card. Oddly enough, perhaps it was his happiest birthday. He'd spent the last twenty years viewing each birthday as another tick closer to his final deadline. Yes, the day had been somewhat traumatic, but certainly it was preferable to death. Maybe things were horribly muddled with Remus, but maybe there was hope for them, given time.

Now, because of Remus, he had time to give. 

~*-,._.,'-*~'`^`'~*-',.'_.,-*~'`^`'~*-,-*~'`^`'~*-,._.,-*~'`^`'~*-,-*

Apparently the werewolf had taken to hermitage, because he hadn't been to the Great Hall for a meal in two days. Severus knew, because for the first time in months he'd attended every meal served. Madam Hooch had begun to joke that perhaps Lupin and Snape were secretly the same person, since it seemed that they were never at a meal at the same time. 

Apparently he hadn't missed a class, though. Of course not; he wouldn't. 

Feeling like a teenager with a crush, Severus waited in the hallway outside of the classroom at the end of Remus's fifth year class. He wasn't sure exactly what was going on in there, but it was noisy. 

"Bedlam," he mumbled to himself. "Foolish werewolf can't even control a classroom full of fifteen year olds." 

Soon enough said fifteen year olds poured out the door, their faces flushed and smiling - until, that is, they caught sight of Snape standing in the hallway and glaring dourly at each one of them as they passed. This encouraged them to skitter quickly off to their next class, effectively getting them out of his way. Severus smiled inwardly. 

As soon as they'd cleared away, he strode into the classroom, closing the door behind him, and stood across the desk from Remus, who sat gathering parchments. His eyes, which steadfastly avoided any contact with Severus, had deep circles collecting beneath them. Remus stared at the papers, stacking them carefully, and spoke in a low tone. 

"Leave."

"Death Eaters are not known for their compassion." 

Remus's eyes remained turned down, but his eyebrows quirked. Severus paused for a moment, and when Remus didn't speak, he continued. 

"All of the Death Eaters knew about the curse." He paused again, and Remus sighed. 

"If you're trying to make a point, is there any way you could make it and give rest to the disjointed, cryptic statements?"

"Do you have any idea how many people told me that they loved me throughout my twenties?" Remus frowned, and appeared to be considering. "I was considered sufficiently attractive when I was younger. That, however, wasn't the point to most of them - it was an opportunity for conquest, cruelty, for taking hold of an advantage and twisting it. Voldemort encouraged it. At that time, I was so desperate to be rid of the curse that I never turned down anyone who claimed to love me, no matter how repulsive I found them, and even when I was sure it couldn't be true. And there were a few times when I thought that perhaps it _was_ true." Remus rested his head in his hands. "Obviously it never was. There was no way I could truly _know_ , you see. Not until after. After, I always knew."

"You expected no different of me than you would of a Death Eater."

"What was I to expect? Was I to hand you my heart and soul with no reservations simply because you've attempted to befriend me in the past year, after two decades of hostility?" 

"The hostility was never mine." 

"It may not have come directly from you, but you were a silent party to it. Even if you had nothing to do with ... that incident ... you never discouraged your friends from the other, supposedly harmless pranks. Or the insults, or the rumors."

"I was a teenager. And I apologized for all that." 

"Oh, of course, you were _young_! And you _apologized_! That makes it all go away. Excuse me, my mistake, you apologized for the years of torment - "

"You were hardly a paragon of kindness to us in those years." 

"Did I have any reason to be?" 

Remus started to answer, then stopped for a moment. "How, exactly, did we come to arguing about offenses that are over twenty years old?"

"How, exactly, did you come to think that you could barge into my classroom, declare your love for me, and win my trust all in one evening?" 

"I was trying to _save your life_." 

"Yes. And you did. I know that _now_. How could I have known that _then_?"

"Are you saying I shouldn't have done it?" 

"I'm saying you needn't torture yourself so over my ... reaction to the situation." He looked at Remus; the man's eyes were closed, his fingers tangled in his own hair. After a moment of silence, he continued, speaking more quietly than before. "You of all people should realize that I don't trust easily. I can't. I've never been allowed to. Perhaps my behaviour was unforgivable, but I'm not sure what else you could've expected."

Remus said nothing, did not move. Severus sighed, and walked to the door, putting his hand on the doorknob. "If you truly love me, you must have some understanding of me." 

He watched Remus for another moment before opening the door and sweeping out into the hall, closing it behind him. 

~*-,._.,'-*~'`^`'~*-',.'_.,-*~'`^`'~*-,-*~'`^`'~*-,._.,-*~'`^`'~*-,-*

Severus made no effort to contact Remus in the three days between their conversation and the full moon. As a result, they did not speak at all, and the two times that their paths crossed, Severus merely grazed Remus with his glance, checking to see if the man was looking at him. He wasn't.

The first day after the full moon, as Severus was settling in for his usual tea, there was a knock at the door. Moving quickly, he rose and went to answer. Standing on the other side of the door was Remus, looking not just weary but outright exhausted, his bloodshot eyes focused on the floor. 

"Remus. Come in." Severus stepped out of the way, allowing Remus to enter his quarters. 

Remus raised his eyes to survey the den. His eyes caught the chair from the office, the extra teacup. "You knew I was coming." 

"No." Not eager to admit that he'd been preparing for tea every day as if Remus would be there, he left it at that. Nodding, Remus fixed himself a cup and took his usual seat as Severus resumed his. Sipping his tea and watching Remus stare down into his cup, slumped in his chair as though his entire body were too heavy, Severus frowned. "You look horrid. I'll have something brought up for you to eat." 

Stirring his tea idly, Remus spoke in a near whisper. "It isn't food that I need." 

For a moment Severus froze, fear closing his throat, feeling as though he were on stage and had forgotten his next line. "What, then, is it that you need?" 

Remus raised his head, and looked into Severus's eyes.

Severus felt, paradoxically, both incredibly relieved and incredibly nervous at the same time. As soon as Remus's eyes met his, he felt an overwhelming relief, knowing that if Remus was willing to look at him that way, then there was at least some hope. At the same time, he felt as though he were being tested, and he tried to conjure up the warmest expression he could manage. It was difficult; he wasn't well practiced in such a countenance. 

"I'm still furious with you." 

"As well you should be." 

"I want to rage at you, but I'm too tired." 

"A few hot meals and some rest, and you should be up to raging. A day or two at the most." 

"Since when have you been so maternal?" 

"Since you bothered to notice." 

The tiniest notion of a smile appeared on Remus's lips. Severus took a breath and decided to press that advantage.

"You never have answered me. What is it that you need?" 

Remus's expression turned somber again, and Severus wondered if he'd made a mistake. The two sat, still not breaking their eye contact, in silence for a moment. 

"We're not alright, Severus." 

Severus started to reply, but bit his words back and instead simply nodded shortly. 

Remus's expression softened almost imperceptibly. "Not yet." 

Severus, at last, felt himself begin to relax. Atonement was not a new concept to him. This was familiar ground. 

"Maybe the raging will help?" 

Remus nodded. "Perhaps. It'll be a start, at least." 

They sat quietly, drinking their tea in a relatively comfortable silence for several minutes. When Remus's cup was empty, he set it aside and rose from his chair. Severus stood also, and, as they stood facing each other, Remus spoke. 

"What I need, right now, is you holding me for a moment. Then I need to return to my quarters, where I will sleep for the first time in a week."

Feeling a bit wobbly, Severus stepped toward Remus and opened his arms. Remus practically fell into them, leaning his head against Severus's chest as Severus wrapped his arms around him, the shorter man almost disappearing within the black robes. Neither man was unaware of the fact that this was the first time they had ever touched each other without hostility. 

They lingered that way, Remus allowing himself to be comforted by the arms that enclosed him, Severus holding on as though this embrace were meant to make up for all the years of anger. Or perhaps just for that night last week. Best to start small, he thought, but squeezed a bit tighter. 

When they parted, Remus looked again at Severus, and his face, though still exhausted, now seemed much calmer. 

"Same time tomorrow then, Severus?" 

"If you must, Remus."


	3. By Way Of Sorrow (You Have Come)

It was Severus who was intent that the raging should be put off no longer. 

“I don’t know why you keep pestering me about it. I was tired and angry when I said I needed to rage. I’m infinitely calmer now.” 

“There were obviously things you wanted to say. Things you felt you needed to say. You were too tired to say them, which means that they must be things that you may not be able to say calmly. Considering that you’ve said very little to me over the past three days - ”

“I’ve said plenty - ”

“If you’d have the decency to allow me to finish. Thank you ever so much. Considering that you’ve said very little to me over the past three days that wasn’t firmly rooted in a _safe_ topic – your classes, the latest Quidditch match - ”

“Now, that one wasn’t entirely safe. Our discussion of the Gryffindor versus Slytherin match turned out to be quite hazardous indeed.” 

Severus glared down his nose at him, and Remus was unable to stifle a grin. 

“I most humbly apologize. Do go on.” 

“The point, which you are so intent upon deterring me from making, is that you have obviously not said what you needed to say to me.” 

“Why are you so eager for me to spew fury at you?”

“Because if you don’t get it bloody well over with _now_ , it will only resurface later on, and I don’t want any more unresolved wounds getting in the way of our … friendship.” 

There was an almost imperceptible pause before Severus spoke the word friendship. A fraction of a second. One tiny sliver of time that somehow managed to house every uncertainty that existed in their tenuous bond. 

“Very well then,” Remus said quietly. “On one condition.” 

Severus raised one eyebrow. “Which would be?”

“You will also rage at me.”

“About?” 

“Anything. Everything.”

“I believe that you are the one with unspoken anger.” 

“When we spoke in my classroom last week, it was clear that you had some unresolved anger of your own.”

“Those offenses, as you pointed out, are over twenty years old” 

“Which is all the more reason for you to lay them down. If we continue to carry these things around, then they might get in the way of our … friendship,” Remus said, speaking the word tenuously, as though it were either too much or not enough, but he wasn’t sure which. “As you pointed out.”

Severus sighed, seeing no way around Remus’s logic. “Very well. We will spend an afternoon shouting at each other.” 

“It doesn’t necessarily have to come to shouting.”

“It more than likely will.”

“Yes.” Remus paused, then smiled wanly. “It was your idea.”

“No.” 

“You’re right. But you’re the one insisting that we go through with it.”

“Yes.” 

Remus chuckled softly. “I could ask Sirius to join us, it would be a relative reuni - ”

“NO.” 

He cleared his throat. “Of course not. I was joking.” 

“I realize that. Your humor has a tendency to become quite stilted when you’re nervous.” 

“Does it now.”

“Yes.” 

“Well. When do you propose we hold this … event?” 

“Tomorrow afternoon.” 

“That soon?”

“Is there a point to putting it off?”

“No, I suppose not.” 

“Tomorrow, then.” 

~*-,._.,'-*~'`^`'~*-',.'_.,-*~'`^`'~*-,-*~'`^`'~*-,._.,-*~'`^`'~*-,-*

Remus was jittery and nervous the next morning, enough so that his students asked him several times if he was all right. They seemed to be even more concerned about him now than they had been during his sleepless week – they were, after all, fairly used to seeing him looking exhausted and drained. Seeing him fidgety and unable to focus, however, was a new phenomenon to them. 

It reminded him of the way he felt the days before his transformations, but with the drawback of feeling terribly distracted. Before the full moon he tended to be overly energetic, but he was usually able to hone his attention and channel it, use it to his advantage. Today he could think of nothing but the upcoming meeting, and finally decided to simply assign an essay to his students and allow them to work independently while he sat at his desk and worried. 

After the events on the eve of Severus’s birthday, Remus had, temporarily, given up all hope of any kind of relationship with Severus. Severus’s attempts in the following week to seek him out and make things right, however, had truly convinced Remus that Severus did care for him in some capacity. Severus Snape, consummate snarky bastard and Slytherin extraordinaire, did not seek people out. Yet he had come after Remus, and not for a simple “thank you for saving my life, now kindly get out of it” statement either. Now he was actually _encouraging_ Remus to share his feelings, and had seemingly agreed – if reluctantly – to share his own as well. 

Although Remus had been hesitant to agree to the raging, he understood Severus’s reasons for insisting that they go through with it. Both of them were currently harboring deep wells of resentment, and if they simply tried to _talk_ about it, they would most likely end up shouting anyway, and possibly saying things they’d regret later. At least if they went into it _planning_ to become agitated, they could walk into the situation with some measure of control. He had heard some people who claimed to be experts in the field of relationships recommending that couples should schedule times to have intense arguments, allotting a specific time for them rather than letting the feelings take control and explode unexpectedly. He supposed that this was basically the same idea. 

Except that he and Severus were not a couple. 

“What _are_ we, exactly?” he asked himself. Their conversations in the past several days, though they had not discussed any issues of any special consequence, had seemed to flow more smoothly than ever before. Severus was more relaxed than Remus had seen him, and more likely to respond to Remus’s gently teasing humor with a barb of his own and the slanted glare that Remus recognized as a smile. They had not touched each other since their embrace on the day of their reconciliation, but somehow their interactions seemed more intimate. 

As pleased as Remus was about the progress they seemed to have made, he felt unstable about the destination. The ground around him seemed to be constantly shifting, and he had no idea where he now stood in Severus’s eyes. Was he a potential lover, or simply a now-trusted confidante? Severus’s insistence upon airing their angers certainly hinted that he was building the foundations of a long-term relationship, but what sort of relationship? Did he hesitate before the word “friendship” because he was considering using a stronger word to describe their bond, or simply because he was unused to having friends? 

Remus tried to tell himself that being allowed past the heavily guarded walls of Severus’s trust – even if it was only as a friend – was more than he had ever realistically allowed himself to expect, and thus he should be happy with that. And he was happy. He was not, however, content. 

~*-,._.,'-*~'`^`'~*-',.'_.,-*~'`^`'~*-,-*~'`^`'~*-,._.,-*~'`^`'~*-,-*

Severus made the same preparations for tea as he always did, however, he found himself having to re-pour the cream when his trembling hands caused him to miss the pitcher. He hissed soft curses at himself, tidied up the mess, and sat down, clasping his hands in his lap. Lupin wasn’t due for almost an hour, but he felt he could use this time. Preparation. 

“It’s not as though having someone focus rage at me is anything short of mundane at this point,” he muttered. “True though that may be,” he answered himself after a moment, “but actually giving a damn about it _is_ a rather new experience.” 

That, he supposed, was the heart of his nervousness. There were precious few people in his life who did not regularly use him as an outlet in one way or another, using him as a symbol through which to express angers that really had very little to do with him personally. This did not particularly bother Severus; he knew that he would never be likable just as he knew that he would never particularly care what these people thought of him, so if they gained some satisfaction through hating him, let them have their petty resentments. 

Remus, however, had never been one of those people. He had never made unfair judgments, never treated Severus with disrespect. And now Severus was encouraging Remus to shout at him. Now, the one person who had always been, at the very least, polite to him, was going to yell and rage. 

Severus had spent his life either ignoring or berating those who detested him for frivolous reasons. This was the first time he had ever invited someone to express their scorn. This time, he knew he deserved it. This time, it was someone whose opinion he not only valued, but held dear. This time, he was terrified. 

~*-,._.,'-*~'`^`'~*-',.'_.,-*~'`^`'~*-,-*~'`^`'~*-,._.,-*~'`^`'~*-,-*

Remus showed up at Severus’s quarters at the usual time, and they prepared their tea and inquired about each other’s days just as they did on a daily basis. After the small talk had run out and they had sipped their tea silently for an awkward moment, Severus spoke up. 

“You should begin, I believe.” 

Remus nodded and cleared his throat. “All right.” He sat his teacup down, rose from his chair, and began to pace slowly around the room. He did this for several moments before turning to Severus and speaking. 

“I know that you do not trust easily. I realize that, and I understand. That’s why I planned on taking as long as necessary to slowly convince you that I could be trusted. However,” he took a deep breath, and Severus watched him closely, bracing himself as well as he could. “After almost thirty years, I would think that you would know me enough to realize that I would never take such harsh advantage of you. Of _anyone_. I never expected you to fully trust me, but dear god, Severus, how could you possibly think that I’d bully a dying man into brutal sex for the mere fun of it? Do you realize how deeply it cut me to know how little you think of me, after all we’ve been through? I’m sure that hearing me say that I loved you was quite a shock to you at that point, and I didn’t expect you to believe me right away, but could you possibly have given me a damn ounce of credit as a human being?” 

He paused and took a deep breath. His voice had never quite reached a shouting level, but it had certainly been well beyond normal speech. He turned to look at Severus, who was watching him, waiting. 

“Speak.” 

“I wasn’t thinking rationally. It was not, as you can imagine, an easy night for me. Or an easy year for me. For that matter, it has not been a particularly easy life, but the last twenty years have been particularly hellish. Everything came to the surface that night. My life was ending, and I didn’t have a damn thing to show for it. All of the greatest emotions of my life had been negative – anger, fear, humiliation. I had no catalogue of joyful memories to focus on in my final hours; it was the worst moments that were playing again and again in my mind. When you appeared with your declaration, all I could imagine was a repeat of - ”

Remus whirled around to face Severus, his voice hovering on the edge of a shout. “You obstinate bastard, have you ever let a damn thing go in your entire life?” 

“It’s not especially easy to simply _let go_ of a murder attempt,” Severus replied through gritted teeth. 

“I. Never. Tried. To. Murder. You.” The words were quiet, ferociously determined. He tried to look Severus in the eyes, but the other man was turned away. “Look at me.” Severus complied, his jaw set, his dark eyes sharp. “I have told you, over and over again, if you would simply listen - ”

“Oh of course, the only reason that I don’t understand is because I never listen, all this anger is _my_ fault. If only I _listened_ , I’d realize that you weren’t responsible for that dreadful, murderous prank. If only I had _listened_ , I wouldn’t have tried to turn Black in to the dementors, because I would have seen that he was innocent – how plain it all was, how simple these realizations must seem for someone who doesn’t have to spend their life straddling between light and dark. Has it occurred to no one that I’ve spent the past twenty-five years listening to people, watching, attempting to find the truths behind the lies? That words mean nothing to me when my observations indicate otherwise?”

Remus responded in a tone that most closely resembled a growl. “Are you saying that your observations indicated that I would thoughtlessly commit violence against you?” 

“My observations indicated that you were so loyal to your little pack of friends that you would go along with just about anything they suggested.” 

“That’s not true,” he said quietly. “Sirius came up with plenty of … nastier … ideas that James and I would not go along with. That’s why he never told us what he planned to do at the willow. He knew we would never agree to it.” 

“So you rejected the plans that involved murder, permanent bodily damage, or anything that would put you in too much danger of expulsion. Bravo. Apparently you weren’t overly concerned about the name calling. Or the rumours. A trip here, a shove there - ”

“I have never approved of Sirius’s treatment of you, and I have made that clear to him over and over - ”

“If only he’d listen,” Severus snarled. “I’m sure. But you never spoke up, never discouraged him in front of others, never protested when he spewed his vitriol about me.” 

“I … ” Remus sighed, and turned away. “I wasn’t used to having such loyal friends. I made a lot of compromises in order to keep our group together. A lot of compromises that I’m not proud of today.”

“So you participated in my denigration in order to keep in good standing with your friends.”

“Both of us have made less than wise decisions to improve our social standing, Severus. I neglected to speak out against Sirius’s belittlement of you. You joined - ”

Severus rose from his chair and strode toward Remus, his height and pure fury so intimidating that for a moment Remus almost backed down. 

“I joined the Death Eaters for no one but myself. I will share that responsibility with no one. That decision was many things – it was selfish, it was idiotic, it was terribly naïve and misguided. It was not, however, a pathetic plea for acceptance.” He stood less than a foot from Remus, their eyes locked. 

“Maybe at age fifteen you were self-sufficient enough to never need or desire a close circle of friends, but I was not. Perhaps it _was_ pathetic. As I said, I am not proud of a lot of the things that came out of that friendship, but I have never in my life felt as loved as I did in those years, and I would not trade them for anything.”

They stared at each other for a long moment, and then Severus sighed and turned away, resuming his seat. “You’re lucky then. I would trade those years of my life away for just about anything.”

Remus considered for a moment, then took his seat across from Severus. “Look at me,” he said, softly this time. Again, Severus complied, but now instead of edgy sharpness, his eyes were warily searching. 

“For any and all contributions I made to the intolerability of your youth, I am sorry. I am deeply, profoundly sorry. Please understand that. And please … let your observations show you that things have changed; I no longer allow anyone to deter me from my instincts, for any reason. I knew how I felt about you twenty-five years ago, but I knew you’d never return my affections. I had everything to lose and nothing to gain. I was young and frightened and weak. I’m none of those things anymore.” He paused a moment, then dared show a small, quirky smile. “Well, perhaps I’m still a bit frightened.” 

Severus raised an eyebrow curiously. “Whatever of?” 

“The same thing I was frightened of then. That you don’t share my feelings. That you never will.” 

Severus made a scoffing sound and waved a hand dismissively. “That’s the least of your concerns, surely you know that.” 

Remus gaped at Severus with something akin to befuddled awe. “How on earth am I supposed to know something like that?” 

Severus stared at Remus with the look he usually reserved for Neville Longbottom. “How could you have missed it? Do I invite anyone else to visit my quarters for tea?” 

“I don’t recall you ever inviting me, really, I believe I just started showing up, and eventually you accepted it as inevitable.”

“I never tossed you out.”

“Oh, of course. I should’ve been planning the wedding all this time. How _could_ I have missed it?”

Severus fixed Remus with a slanted glare. Remus returned the smile, his stomach a mass of jitters, feeling as though he’d finally started to unearth something that had been hidden to him for most of his life. He could see the edge of it; it was still half buried and in need of a good cleaning, but it was _there_. It wasn’t until Severus spoke that he realized he’d been sitting silently for several moments. 

“Good god, how long do you plan on sitting there with that damned goofy grin of yours?”

Remus cleared his throat and resumed a more serious expression. “I’m so sorry, is this better?”

“Much.” The corners of his mouth twitched slightly. They watched each other for a moment, and this time Remus broke the silence. 

“I hate to disturb this … whatever exactly this moment is … but … are we through? I mean, with … ”

Severus was silent for a moment, and his eyes took a deeply contemplative look. When he looked back at Remus, he spoke quietly. “Not quite. You apologized for all of your transgressions against me. Some of them you’ve apologized for multiple times. I accept.” 

Remus nodded. Severus went on.

“I have been more than unfair to you in the past few years. It was purely vindictive of me to tell the students that you were a werewolf. I had no motive but to hurt you, to get rid of you. I succeeded in both. If only temporarily in the latter,” he added, and Remus smiled. “Last week, I was … as I said, I was not thinking rationally. I know that you are neither violent nor manipulative. I should have thought about the situation calmly. I was in no fit state to do so. I know that what happened was terrible for you. I am sorry.” 

Remus looked at Severus with moist eyes. “I accept your apology.”

“You were willing to do something horrible in order to redeem someone who only scorned you for it. I never imagined that anyone would think me worth any such gesture.” 

“I do.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He paused a moment. “Was there anything else you needed to say?” 

“Yes. But not now.” 

Remus tilted his head. “Why not?” 

“I want to put a little time between the raging and the rest of what I’ve got to say.” 

After a moment, Remus nodded. “I can understand that.”

“Perhaps you could return after dinner?”

Remus stood, and Severus followed suit. “Certainly. Will you be at dinner?” 

Severus shook his head. “I’ve a few things to attend to.”

“All right then. I’ll see you in a few hours.”

Remus left Severus’s quarters feeling an intense surge of hope, as well as more than a bit of anticipation about Severus’s plans for the evening. 

~*-,._.,'-*~'`^`'~*-',.'_.,-*~'`^`'~*-,-*~'`^`'~*-,._.,-*~'`^`'~*-,-*

After an evening of nervous energy and a dinner during which he barely touched his food, Remus returned once more to the dungeons. Not, however, before stopping at his quarters and cleaning up a bit. He brushed his teeth, combed his hair and changed his clothes, knowing that he’d feel like an utter fool if his suspicions turned out to be wrong. 

They were not wrong. 

Remus knocked on the door, and Severus answered, wearing a long, black silk dressing gown trimmed with emerald-green embroidery. He had clearly bathed recently; his hair was still slightly damp and he smelled of aloe. Remus took in a sharp breath and entered, finding Severus’s quarters lined with candles. He turned to Severus, who was simply watching him, waiting for his reaction. 

“Are you trying to seduce me, Severus Snape?” 

The corners of Severus’s mouth twitched, and he strode towards Remus. “That depends. How hard would I have to try?” He stopped directly in front of Remus, just short of touching him. 

“Not very, I’d imagine,” Remus whispered, his breath quickening. “I’ve only spent a quarter of a century wanting you.” He grinned slightly. “Besides, it seems that you’ve already put quite a bit of effort into it,” he commented, his voice shyly teasing. “Who would’ve expected that you’d turn out to be such a romantic?” 

Severus sighed and rolled his eyes. “Why should anyone presume to know how I would act when I’m in love? Has anyone in this damned castle ever actually seen me in such a state? I think not.”

“In love?” Remus used his last bit of breath to ask. 

Severus reached out and took Remus’s chin in one slender hand, tilting the man’s face toward his own and gripping his gaze. “I told you there was something else that I needed to say to you.” 

Remus nodded, wondering if he’d ever be able to breathe again. 

“That was it.” 

They stood that way. Immeasurable time passed. The back of Remus’s mind was turning over itself, calculating the possibilities, the effect that this one week was having, the fault-line shifting of his entire future. The front of his mind was a static repetition, “Severus loves me, Severus loves me, Severus loves me … ” At last he opened his mouth slightly and tried to speak, but Severus began to draw closer to Remus, leaning his face down until their noses were almost touching, and Remus lost his words. 

“Ssh. You don’t have to,” Severus whispered, his breath warm against Remus’s lips. “You won’t have a single coherent thing to say anyway.” 

“Then you’d best find a way to stop me, else I may prattle on for hours,” he breathed, his arms sliding around Severus’s waist.

“Dear god. Anything but that.”

And then they kissed. 

It seemed odd to Remus that this was their first kiss. They had known each other for almost thirty years. They had had sex – in the barest, rawest sense of the word – but they had never once kissed. 

Now they were. And it was glorious. Severus’s arms around his waist, Severus’s taste in his mouth, Severus’s body pressed to him. 

This. This was what he had imagined. 

Neither man seemed willing to allow this initial kiss to end before it absolutely had to, so when they finally broke away, both took in heaving gulps of air. Once they had satisfied their need for oxygen, their mouths were quick to seek each other out once more, searching and plunging again for as long as was possible before another gasping retreat. 

This was the pattern for quite some time. Snogging and panting, devouring and wheezing, until Remus, a sheepish smile on his face, spoke.

“You’ll have to forgive me. I can’t seem to get enough of kissing you.”

“I don’t recall complaining.” 

“I know.” He paused. “I suppose I’m trying to make up for last time, when - ”

“There was no last time,” Severus interrupted, his words quick and decisive.

Remus frowned a bit. “Severus, I don’t want to - ”

“Pretend it never happened. No, neither do I. But what happened wasn’t … this. What happened that night is only related to what will happen tonight in the most clinical of senses. You and I have copulated. We have never made love. Tonight we will.”

Remus could not respond in words. Suddenly he felt a bit shaky, and the only logical response was to lean back in, taking support from Severus’s frame, and claim that delightful mouth in yet another desperately ravenous kiss. This time, however, when he finally retreated, he knew that kissing was no longer going to be enough. His hands trailed along the silk that covered Severus’s back, sliding around to where the sash tied in the front and unfastening it. He was silently grateful that Severus had chosen to wear something easily removed, as he was fairly certain that trying to unfasten all of the buttons of his normal outfit without tearing anything would drive him mad.

Severus shrugged the robe from his shoulders and allowed it to fall to the floor, leaving him thoroughly nude. Remus stood quietly for a moment in simple admiration of the other man’s lean but sturdy frame, giving himself time to notice and memorize every detail that his imagination had previously attempted to fill in. Severus, with great effort, remained still and quiet during this period of inspection. 

Then, without warning, after Severus had started to wonder if Remus planned to do anything but look, Remus wrapped one arm around Severus’s waist and leaned his head down to take one delectably tempting nipple into his mouth, one hand rising to tease the other. Severus, for hardly the last time that evening, felt sure that he would go mad. 

The surprised sound that escaped Severus’s throat could only be described as a growl, and he wrapped his arms around Remus’s shoulders in an attempt to steady himself. Remus continued to lick, nibble and tweak for several moments, Severus’s growls turning to moans, and eventually to whimpers. _Did I just make Severus Snape whimper?_ he thought with great satisfaction as he slowly sank to his knees, kisses trailing down the taller man’s chest and stomach along the way. 

As Remus dropped down in front of him, Severus felt his legs grow shaky with anticipation, and once more he latched onto Remus’s shoulders for support. He closed his eyes and braced himself, preparing for an onslaught of pleasure, but Remus seemed to be in no hurry; in fact, the other man was thoroughly enjoying himself feasting upon Severus’s left thigh. As delightful as this was, it was doing nothing to ease the impending madness.

Remus felt Snape lean against him, pause a moment, and then begin to squirm. He grinned against the pale, lean thigh that he was intent upon covering with nibbles. Let him squirm. Though he was enticed by the scent of Severus’s arousal and the feel of his erection brushing against him as he shifted, he had no intention of hurrying. He knew that Severus wanted him. He wanted Severus to _need_ him. 

Severus felt the intellect seep from his brain as his entire being became centered on Remus, and what Remus was doing with his mouth. Not to mention what he _wished_ Remus was doing with his mouth. He was becoming almost painfully hard, and every stroke of Remus’s hair against the sensitive skin was torture. And then … oh god, oh dear god. Remus trailed the very tip of his tongue, feather soft, maddeningly slowly along the length of Severus’s shaft. Severus’s entire body shuddered as he let out a low, pleading groan. 

Remus chuckled. Yes, this was what he wanted. He loved Severus deeply, and wanted to gift him with unending pleasure, over and over for the rest of their lives. However, right now, he wanted nothing more than to reduce Severus to a puddle. Perhaps even to hear him beg. There was no malice in his intent, and he knew that Severus would enjoy every agonizing moment, but after the events of the past week … he needed Severus to want him, to need him, to be _desperate_ for him before he would take him. Once his tongue finally finished its trail, he shifted again, and started to work on the right thigh. 

And then the tongue was gone, and that wicked mouth was fixed on his other thigh. This was damn near unbearable. “Are you determined to drive me insane?” Severus managed to gasp out between ragged breaths. 

“Yes.” The answer was given in a low tone that left room for no further question. 

He struggled to keep control of himself as Remus continued his work, but just when he was beginning to think that perhaps he could keep from dissolving, he felt one of Remus’s fingers – just one, so lightly – sliding along the tense skin of his balls. 

Severus almost roared then, a deep, hungry sound. Remus almost considered having mercy on the man right then, especially because he was feeling no lack of eagerness himself. He was not, however, prepared to give in. Just yet. He continued to tease Severus with one finger, and spoke, his lips brushing against the smooth thigh as he did. “I’m sorry love, but I have no intention of allowing you to come until I’m buried inside you, fucking you senseless.” The moan that Severus let out at those words told Remus that yes, that was something that Severus did want. But not enough. Not yet. 

Then Remus stood, and, as if Severus weren’t aroused enough, he began to disrobe. Not quickly, of course, no no, he obviously had no pity this night. Severus took the opportunity to back up a bit and sit on the edge of the bed, giving himself the support that he needed before he crumpled into a pleading mass on the floor. He sat there, transfixed as button by button Remus’s chest was revealed, those delectable nipples, the soft fur that he planned on stroking again and again. 

His shirt discarded, Remus kicked off his shoes and pulled his socks off, then straightened up again, and began to unfasten his trousers, a bit at a time, fingers lingering over the button, thoroughly enjoying the way Severus’s mouth hung open, practically drooling as he waited. 

Severus saw so much that he wanted, so many spots that demanded to be licked and bitten, such an abundance of beautiful skin that would merit exploration in time. But now … now, now now … all he wanted was to see Remus’s cock. To see it, admire it, and feel it inside him. 

At last he pushed his trousers over his hips, letting them fall, and stepping out of them. He grinned at Severus’s obvious surprise to find that he wasn’t wearing underpants. “You aren’t the only one who wanted to be accessible tonight,” he purred, and stepped toward Severus. 

Closer. Closer. Yes. Yes yes yes. Please now touch me please … Remus’s hands were on his shoulders, pushing him down onto the mattress, and then Remus was on top of him, scooting him fully onto the bed, the lengths of their nude bodies sliding against each other, skin against hot, wanting skin. 

And Remus wanted him, wanted to claim him, this gorgeous man beneath him, writhing and gasping, so obviously hungry for him. But not just yet. 

Then Remus sat up on his knees, and Severus moaned in disappointment at the loss of contact. Remus once again took him by the shoulders, but this time he was turning him, flipping him onto his stomach. Severus did not resist. Even if he had wanted to, which he did not, there was not an ounce of resistance left in him. All that he could muster was an all-consuming _want_ , which was quickly turning to need. 

When Severus was on his stomach, Remus parted those well-kissed thighs and felt the tremble that his touch caused. He paused for a moment, enjoying the view of Severus’s lovely arse, but one of Severus’s strained breaths brought him back to his task. He brought his hands to the smooth cheeks and parted them slightly, then leaned down and found the tight pucker with his tongue. 

Severus felt sure that his hips rose to the ceiling. That tongue, that skillful tongue, circling and lapping and diving … he was squirming wildly, his throat full with pitiful mewling sounds. He no longer cared. Anything that would convince Remus that he was ready, that he could wait no longer. “Please,” he whispered. 

Remus stopped at the sound of the word. “Please what?” 

“Please fuck me, Remus, for god’s sake!” The voice was frantic. 

That was it. That was all he needed. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Severus saw Remus reach for the jar of lubricant that Severus had placed on the bed stand earlier in the evening. He was simultaneously filled with relief and anticipation. 

Remus opened the jar quickly, quite beyond the point of waiting himself, and slathered both his erection and Severus’s opening. He did not have to ask Severus to raise his hips to meet him, and then he was inside, buried inside that glorious body, that glorious body that _wanted_ him, that _needed_ him, that was _responding_ to him. 

Severus screamed. There was no other word for it. After all the teasing, to finally be filled with Remus, to be completely and utterly claimed by Remus, was almost more than his senses could bear. He thrust wantonly against his lover, wanting more more harder harder deeper deeper, the words pouring from his mouth, only half aware of his own ravenous chanting. 

Remus was happy to comply. He could not, in fact, bring himself to do otherwise. His lover wanted to be fucked, and that was exactly what his lover was going to get. Gripping Severus’s hips, he slammed into him, a long, lupine howl of triumph escaping him as he did.

Severus’s mind exploded. There were no coherent thoughts. There was only Remus, and Remus’s incredible cock, inside him, taking him, and then, oh god, Remus’s hand around his own, stroking him, and his entire body was a crackling fuse about to go off. 

He felt Severus tense as he massaged him with one slick hand, he felt his own climax, too immediate, too powerful to be held back. He let go, and the relief was thorough. All his physical need, all his emotional tension, all his mental anguish came crashing to the surface and pouring forth, evaporating at last against Severus’s moist skin. 

And then Remus was releasing, inside him, those fingers were tightening around him, and he came, every touch of Remus’s body fueling him, every thrust encouraging his pleasure until he felt he had no breath left in his body. 

They both held still for a moment, reminding themselves to breathe, recovering somewhat, before Remus slowly withdrew from his lover and pulled the man into his arms. They collapsed together against the mattress, limp and exhausted and sated beyond belief. 

After a moment, Remus looked down at Severus’s face, squeezed him, and kissed the top of his head. “Get used to it.” 

“Hmmm?” 

“Being loved. Having sex with someone who loves you. I know it was … missing from your life for a long time.”

“For my entire life.” 

“As I said,” he murmured, stroking Severus’s hair, “get used to it.”

“I don’t expect I shall ever get used to it. I imagine that it will be a delicious treat each and every time.” 

“That works too.” 

They lay in silence for several moments, reveling in their first post-coital snuggle, until the pragmatic one spoke.

“We should clean up. Before we go to sleep.” 

“You’re right. Perhaps we could share a shower?”

“That could lead to all sorts of trouble.” 

“And that would be a negative thing?”

“On the contrary, that’s exactly why I think it a brilliant idea.” 

With that, the two men rose, never fully breaking contact with each other, and headed toward Severus’s bathroom, to clean up. Or not.


End file.
